Another week, another round. Time to say goodbye to the 16 songs that couldn’t quite make it over the hump, and brace ourselves for the first really, really goddamn hard matches next week (Hoobastank v. Train? Korn v. Limp Bizkit?)

All voting, schedules, and regularly scheduled #CONTENT will be found here. Once more:

And now, as is our tradition, the 16 songs that left us far, far too soon.

Obituaries

RM: Goodbye, Savage Garden. “Truly Madly Deeply” is one of those songs that is attempting to sound romantic through fatalistic bullshit but instead makes it sound like the lead singer is going to murder his love interest for talking to a male cashier at the grocery store.

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nss: Oh, what you did to us, Plain White Tees. It’s incredible you don’t realize why your girlfriend looks so pretty (yes she does). Hint: NYU freshmen ain’t exactly known for waitin’ around with their legs crossed on some soft-ass penpal bullshit when they can go to Webster Hall and find someone to keep warm with tonight. So, sorry this sappy voicemail never got its call returned. We might not remember you, but you’ll live on in the hearts and minds of every new college student who still doesn’t realize the promise of a long term relationship was a lie to get them in bed.

RM: “100 Years” is a terrible song. Part of me thought it deserved to beat “The Reason.” It’s just so sappy – the story of a 15 year old kid who is dreaming of finding a special lady who he eventually meets at 22 and then a bunch of vague (but I guess romantic?) shit happens and the dude dies at 100. The premise of the song is that 100 years is a very short time. But I am only 32 years old and I have been alive forever. Life isn’t short. Stare at a clock for like 10 minutes. Wow dude, that was a long time. Fuck Five for Fighting.

nss: James Blunt, you sketchy-ass motherfucker. You know I just realized – I think James Blunt was homeless you guys. Unkempt hair? Check. On the subway? Check. Leering at unavailable women? Check. “Fucking High?” Definite check. This is the shit of nightmares for every woman in any major city. I feel like when you say “your plan” it probably “finish off this Mad Dog 20/20 and go across the track to board the uptown train” but I guess we’ll never know. Such a shame.

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RM: “White Iverson,” man. Many of you guys had not heard this song before the tournament started so I knew it winning was a tall order. Unfortunately the 21st Century Al Jolson went up against that bad song from that bad disaster movie. “I’m with some white girls and they lovin’ the coca” is a lyric this guy wrote. Dude looks like he should be called Fat Protestant

nss: Rest in Peace, Good Charlotte. Sorry we made you do it. Enjoy eternal purgatory.

RM: Adios, Khia. We made a big deal about the crass lyrics of “My Neck, My Back” but listen to the beat. Seriously, I’d call these Casio keyboard beats but that’s an insult to 5th graders screwing around on their Casio.

nss: Reader Sodburger said it best: “‘All Summer Long’ is an embarrassment to Michiganders (I am one, I know)… This song COULD HAVE BEEN OUR ANTHEM but instead it’s sung by the Trump Supporters of the north as some sort of confirmation that being a complete waste of human breath is A-OK. IF YOU CAN’T THINK OF A DIFFERENT WORD TO RHYME WITH ‘THINGS’ THAN ‘THINGS’ THEN MAYBE DROPPING OUT OF SCHOOL AT 14 WASN’T THE BEST IDEA.” I can’t top this. Sayonara, Kid Rock.

RM: Later, “Outside.” “Cause inside you’re ugly, ugly like me.” Oh what lovely lyrics Staind. Sing to your lady about how shitty you both are. Aaron Lewis you are so edgy and emo! Speak to the teens that have the feels!

nss: I can’t feign surprise that “Lips of an Angel” got axed by the Nickelback buzzsaw, but I’ll sincerely miss it’s participation. “I’ve got an idea! Let’s break up, start sleeping with other people, and see how long we can keep up the ruse before they catch us!” “GREAT IDEA!” I have no idea why these people ever broke up unless they’re by-the-books psychopaths obsessed with collateral damage to everyone else. Twisted, man.

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RM: Are you “Down with the Sickness”? Are you Disturbed? Well looks like you aren’t.

nss: Kind of a shame on this one. But the voters have spoken, and they let “Bodies” hit the floor, they let “Bodies” hit the floor, they let “Bodies” hit the floor, they let “Bodies” hit the floor, they let “Bodies” hit the floor, they let “Bodies” hit the floor, they let

RM: Robin Thicke rightfully faced a lot of criticism for the lyrics of “Blurred Lines.” So how did he defend this song? By saying this. Yeesh. Also do you know who old Thicke is? He’s 39. Isn’t this dude a little old to go play PUA/pervert at a club? Even if I wasn’t married* I think I’d rather listen to NPR and take a muscle relaxer than go to a club.

*Thicke was married when he wrote “Blurred Lines”. Guess what? He isn’t married anymore!

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nss: There’s not a whole lot for me to miss about “Blue” since it’s pretty much the same thing repeated 10,000 times, but I will miss the Borat-on-Autotune introduction about the “little guy” who you would think was figuratively blue. You would think. … …This song was about a Smurf.

RM: There isn’t a lot I can say about the song “All Star” by Smash Mouth. That song was so ubiquitous but it’s just so plain I almost forgot it existed before the tournament started. Yeah the lyrics make no sense and yeah the song is really bad, but I’m not surprised it lost to “Summer Girls.” “All Star” is so dumb it almost means nothing at all. This song is like watercress – you might not like it but its blandness is not as offensive as wilted radicchio or whatever the hell other bad songs are.

nss: Macklemore, burn in hell. Obituaries and that “respect for the dead” nonsense is done now because I’m about to make your figurative grave look like R. Kelly’s sheets. Your songs are the most offensive pieces of mind-numbing drivel that the pseudo-hip-hop white establishment has ever used to misappropriate and pander to a bunch of suburban kids who are too young to realize they’re being exploited. You are the only person on planet fucking earth that’s capable of speaking out of both sides of your mouth on privilege as you walk to the stage to accept an award even you know you didn’t win. You are Asher Roth without talent, Mike D without taste, and Vanilla Ice without a hook all rolled into one human-shaped dog turd. You are the cartoonish caricature of a white rapper that appeared on shows like Law and Order 20 years ago but with less ability. You embody everything that’s prevented modern hip hop from legitimizing itself to critical influencers in the music business (read: guys so old they need grab bars to get off the toilet), and even in a contest called the “Worst Song Bracket” I’m just fucking glad to see you’re no longer competing for another prize you don’t deserve.

Your Final Round of 16 Bracket:

- Thank You’s: Thank you to those who submitted nominees, playlists, Gerse for hosting the challenge, @blairdow for designing our Twitter logo, Sidespin for TKTKTK, and the staff at Deadspin for your tireless efforts.